Part 1 - All Roads Lead to Cyrodiil...

It was another warm yet otherwise completely unremarkable day for the inhabitants of the Baandari trading post. The town inhabitants went about their daily business, be it carrying the trading goods off or loading them onto the caravans, while others were engaged in active chatter... All of a sudden, a loud thud followed by a colorful collection of profanities erupted from the corner of the town square as the Khajiiti worked had collided with none other than Magus of the local Mages Guild chapter, who also happened to be carrying a rather large pile of assorted supplies and parchments mounting nearly as tall as her forehead as she rushed across the streets.
- "Magnus! A thousand apologies, messere!" - the mage awkwardly extended her hand to the worker, helping him back to his feet.
- "Dull claws, walker! This one believes that nothing warrants such a hurry should one begin walking into things, no?" - the old cat-man huffed as he struggled to regain his footing.
- "Yes... yes, of course" - the young Breton mage shook her head, replying somewhat absently as she gathered the stray pages off the ground, mostly maps.
- "Ah, no harm done yes?" - the worker offered a small smile, shaking his head in amusement. - "Bright moons, walker. And for the future try and keep one's eyes on the road - the lamp post is nowhere near as forgiving as this one, yes?"

Offering a polite yet somewhat awkward nod the mage hurried to the Guild Hall as the worker continued to watch her, chuckling under his breath. Rushing into the empty hall and slamming the door shut, Bethany finally let out a sigh of relief. After embarrassing herself in such a fashion one can hardly blame her for the desire to hide beyond the sturdy doors of the Chapter. But that relief was short-lived as the map spread largely over the work table brought her focus back to the task at hand. It has being almost a month since Magister Conelle had commissioned her for the mission, but only in the past few days did the gravity of the situation had finally started to sink in. Elros' words of caution, while welcomed as a sign of his concern for her well-being, did not instill the much needed courage. Truth be told, beneath her polished exterior she was scared, terrified even. If not for the agreement she so easily allowed herself to slip into, she would had never considered going into the death trap without any clear goal in mind. And yet this is precisely where she found herself....

- "So this is what standing at the precipice of the abyss feels like..." - she thought to self absently as she gathered the supplies together. The departure was only a mere few hours away, but for Bethany it felt like an eternity gone by. Nervously tapping her fingers on the weathered timber, she awaited patiently for her traveling companion to arrive. The thought brought a shadow of a smile to her lips. Korvos... It was not always clear to her how this came to pass, but over the past year this silent Dunmer became a close friend for the Breton mage. Be it the shadows of the past that loomed over the two of them, or simply an odd sense of... understanding that their life experience had brought. In the end, it mattered not - if she was walking into the ire of the storm, there are fewer people she would trust with her life more than Donvyn's brother... But her smile was short-lived as with it, there was a certain pang of guilt. True, the exact goal of the expedition remained a mystery for her as well, but Korvos knew even less. Yet still, he offered to follow her into what may very well be a one-way trip without as much as a second guess... Letting out a sigh, Bethany leaned against a heavy wooden beam while she awaited for the Dunmeri warrior. She knew too well just how stubborn the Sarethi brothers can be, and if one of them had set his mind to something there was no turning them back. No matter what may come...

Provisions set.
Axe sharpened.
Shield repaired.
Jack oiled.

Korvos ran through a mental checklist of his gear and possessions. Bethany hadn't been particularly forthcoming on their final destination, but she had mentioned that they would be stopping in Bangkorai to pick up an escort. He tapped a gauntlet-clad hand on the pommel of his axe as he ran the known facts of the mission through his head. There weren't many to go on.

The Dunmer strode across the Tradepost square with a purpose, anticipation settling in his gut. The brief synopsis Bethany had given on the mission seemed to unsettle her, and Korvos wondered what could possibly have ruffled the feathers of the generally unflappable Breton. The intricacies of the Guild politics made his head hurt, and he did his best not to pay attention to them, but at least he knew that Bethany's superiors had placed some sort of pressure on her to complete a rather dangerous mission.

Korvos turned the idea of leaving her be over in his head. The Mages Guild wasn't affiliated with him in the least - Bethany had been helping him with his own magical anomalies out of the goodness of her heart. Bethany wasn't incompetent, not in the least - whatever the Mages had planned for her, the task had been given to Bethany because she was skilled and intelligent. Korvos entertained the notion that he might just be getting in the way. His own magical ability was sub-par, with only a single Detect Life spell to his name that he couldn't seem to quit casting.

He shoved the notion aside. He owed Bethany his help, and who knew? A bunch of mages might need a solid wall of muscle, steel, and dirty looks.

Korvos pushed open the door to the Guildhall and offered Bethany a nod with what could've passed for a rare smile.

"Set to go," he grunted, checking the spare daggers strapped to his belt.

Bethany had to use all of her willpower to not smile brightly as Korvos finally entered the halls of the Baandari Chapter. No matter what lay ahead, the Dunmeri warrior did not seem to be phased in the slightest. It wasn't blind optimism the likes of which she often witnessed in her friend Afer, neither was it a smug readiness with which Elros carried himself around. Nay, it was simply that. Korvos did not troubled himself with what lay ahead, preferring to deal with the problems as they arise... While she would never admit it aloud, it was this kind of calm confidence that she needed the most in this hour of need.

- "Fair day to you, as well" - Bethany offered a graceful bow as the warrior drew closer, no longer bothering to hide a smile of relief. - "And you are set and ready to go? Splendid! I am glad that at least one of us is..." - she offered a light chuckle before picking up a rather sizable backpack from the floor. Having her trusted staff in hand, the Breton mage offered one last glance to the building that became an essential part of her life over the last year. Every inch of the weathered stonework, every crack in the wood... all of it seemed to carry a memory associated with it. Granted, not all of them were pleasant ones - far from it, in fact - yet it was these events that shaped her into the person Hawke was now. With a small nod of farewell, she turned around and headed outside, motioning Korvos to follow. Once outside, the mage stretched her hand forward, focusing the blue tendrils of Aetherian magic on her fingertips until the very air in front of her began to shimmer. With a muffled pop, a window of the Rift was opened. - "Well, then... I guess this is it. Are you ready?" - she regarded the Dunmeri warrior closely, as if looking for any signs that he may change his mind. Yet, with a firm nod and a muffled grunt, Korvos stepped right into the portal. Letting out a small sigh of relief, the Breton battlemage followed suit as the shimmering portal close as soon as she stepped trough it...




/// The Bangkorai Garrison was a mighty citadel of Breton folk, erected centuries ago to protect the principality of Evermore from the raiders of Alik'r desert. While the enmity between the rugged Redguard folk and the city-dwelling Bretons had came to a halt at the formation of the Daggerfall Covenant, it did not simply erase the life time of mistrust between the two. As such, even in the peaceful times such as these the Garrison remained at full strength... ///




The portal lead the pair of unlikely adventurers into the central courtyard of the castle. While Bethany and Korvos made their way trough, more than a few eyes followed them closely. While most of the Lion Guard seemed to be quite indifferent to the group of travelers, the Evermore knights offered their share of side-glances, directed primarily at the Dunmeri warrior. With a stiffened sigh, she leaned closer to him and whispered:
- "Do your best to ignore them. These soldiers had fought a bitter war for generations, it is hardly a surprise they are suspicious of any but themselves..." - the mage straightened her robes as they moved across the paved courtyard. - "Our goal lies in the East wing of the fortress. Captain Gustav should await us there along with the rest of the expedition. Magnus I only hope we aren't arriving late..." - she continued to move, but in her mind she worried greatly for Korvos. The amount of cold, and occasionally outright hostile looks he received made her pause and wonder whether it was such a good idea to bring him along to this journey... She quickly dismissed the thought. If her countryman had forgotten all rules of civility during brief time of war, she will be sure to remind them herself...

Human eyes looked unusual. They were small compared to elven ones, and their irises were much smaller as well. It lent them a more expressive look, Korvos thought - by the way humans showed the whites of their eyes, or how their round little pupils dilated within the earthy-toned colors, one could discern stress, terror, relaxation or contentment from the involuntary shifts in ocular anatomy.

For example, the guards that regarded Korvos in the courtyard were displaying clear disgust and hostility. The Dunmer gave himself a mental pat-on-the-back. Noticing body language had never been his strong suit. Bethany had noticed the hostility as well, and Korvos did his best to appear non-threatening, or rather, pondered what he could do to appear non-threatening. He couldn't remove his shield or his axe, and they hadn't been confiscated from him when they entered the castle grounds, anyway. Changing the shape of his ears or the color of his eyes and skin wasn't particularly possible, either, but he figured he was used to general racism. Even among the elves of the Dominion, Dunmer stuck out like sore thumbs. Sore thumbs that sometimes were slavers, and before Korvos had left Morrowind, Bretons had been gaining popularity as premiere House Dres merchandise.

Smiling instead of his chronic poker-face was right out of the question. His forced smiles always seemed more constipated than pleasant.

Korvos' shoulder twitched as he tried to ignore the alarm buzzing at the base of his skull. Rather than meet the eyes of the soldiers, he elected to look at the floor as he silently followed Bethany. To placate his lack of visual awareness, he exhaled a quiet breath and heightened an awareness that he hadn't had a name for until several months ago. Detect Life. Poking and prodding around the Guildhall revealed that he had an aptitude for one spell and only one spell, and though it did wonders for his martial prowess - one could hardly sneak up on an opponent that already knew where you were, no matter where his back was turned - he couldn't seem to consciously stop casting it. Constantly throwing out one spell didn't leave much room for casting others, and left Korvos at a rather anticlimactic reason for his general magical ineptitude.

He supposed it could be worse. Inadvertently casting fireballs like a young Donvyn was less preferable to simply knowing the location of every guard, courtier, and stray mouse within Korvos' casting sphere. As they approached the East Wing, Korvos could sense a small gathering of people inside the adjacent room, presumably Captain Gustav and his lackeys.

Captain Gustav was not what she expected him to be. As a young student under the Magister Alexandra Conelle, Bethany often heard the man referred to among the conversations of high and mighty of the Royal Court of Daggerfall. The man had... a rather peculiar reputation with the nobles, to say the least. Some even wondered how a rogue like him managed to rise so high within the ranks of the Lion Guard at all! Being a commoner by birth, Gustav's early exploits had decisively marked the man as the 'troublemaker' to his superiors. To understand that, one must know the inner working not just of the Breton military, but of the society as well. One's rank and protocol play a key role in the High Rock society, often determining the very lives of those within the hierarchy... But to this man, rank and protocol meant little to none. All of that, however, was greatly outmatched by sheer resourcefulness and relentless efficiency with which Gustav pursued his intended goal. No matter the obstacles in his way - he got the job done. Growing up with the stories of his exploits on the lips of so many of her colleagues from the Guild, she expected the man himself to be a little... different. Short, stocky man with a fiery ginger beard and cold blue eyes was not how she pictured one of the most distinguished knights of the realm...

Her moment of shock must have been obvious enough for the man in question to arch an eyebrow at her, before shifting a questioning gaze to her Dunmeri companion.
- "I expected one mage from the Guild, and the equipment required for the journey ahead. Is that supposed to be a part of your 'luggage' you may have forgotten to declare?" - the sarcasm in the man's tone was thick enough to stick a spoon into it - and it would remain standing.
- "I beg your pardo... oh. Nay, this is..."
- "Lady, do I look like I care who this is? But there better be a damn good reason why /he/ is present here"
- "Korvos is an old acquaintance of mine, and a skilled warrion..."
- "Lady, you aren't listening. All I want to know is whether or not he can pull his own weight or not. If he can - grand. More fodder to keep the damned Colovians off our backs. If not..."
- "Korvos is a damn fine warrior, one I gladly take over any of your armored louts!" - the mage exclaimed in indignation for her friend. To her surprise, the short man grunted with what sounded suspiciously close to satisfaction.
- "That is all I need to hear. Now, gather round! We're wasted enough time as it is, and I don't have the patience to baby-sit the lot of you. We have a task at hand, and damn I be if we screw this up because one of you whelps failed to pay attention! There are no mommy skirts to hide where we are going, and if you value your miserable lives even a fraction you will do as I say - down to. the. damnest. letter. Understood?" - the man gazed from one person to another, as each shifted uncomfortably under the icy gaze of those pale eyes. - "Good. Now, ladies and gentleman - let us see what lovely hell-hole we shall drag our sorry quarters into..." - accompanied by a rather menacing grin, Gustav unrolled a map across the table as he spoke...




/// The Bangkorai Garrison was in a state of uproar. Every now and then one can see a group of squires rushing between the armored figures of the knights, carrying or at times dragging various supplies along. But among this highly organized chaos, one group stood out the most. A small assembly of dozen knights clad in the customary silver-golden plate of the Lion Guard, a handful of frightened-looking scholars donning the blue colors of the Mages Guild... and perhaps the most unlikely pair of them all. A slender form of the Breton battlemage leaning against the wall barely a step away from the Dunmer warrior, occasionally trading a few words as the preparations went on...///



Bethany did her best to conceal the worry that was practically eating her on the inside. What in Azura's grace was she doing here? How did she even got herself into this mess? In all the years of her travels, the woman never felt herself so... trapped. Powerless. Akin a lamb being led to the inevitable slaughter. Hawke let out a rugged sigh. She can grovel all she wants, but it does not change a thing - she is stuck in this until the end. One way or another... The thought prompted a soft yet humorless chuckle. A band of companions bound together till they succeed... or the death parts them. - "Together till the end... that makes it sounds almost romantic" - she thought absently as her hands fiddled with a small traveling bag on her side. Was she afraid? Indeed. Did she had good reasons to question the safety of this expedition? Most definitely so. Still... Bethany's grip on the leather bag tightened as her eyes narrowed in a determined glare. She /will/ see this trough. Damn Gustav and his men to the Void - she is not going to back down and cover in fear. But she is damn sure not to throw her life away, and live to tell the tale of this herself...

The Dunmer had remained silent through the traded shouting between Gustav and Bethany, and maintained that silence through the briefing. There weren't many words to offer. He glanced at Bethany, then to the assembled Lion Guard and mages. They either trusted in the strength of these gathered people with immeasurable faith, or they had carefully selected a group to be efficiently, nobly slaughtered. Korvos thought of the little troubles Bethany had landed herself in with the Guild, of the hot water she was standing in. For a glorious triumph, it was a dramatic one. For an execution, it would make her a martyr. Korvos couldn't be too sure which was the intention.

From his own pack, Korvos produced a lute. It was a small one, as far as the common instrument went, and he plucked at it distractedly. He kept the strings muted, barely audible over the nervous din of the squires running supplies. He tuned the lute with the uncertainty of a new musician, testing the sounds rather than playing anything. He made an odd figure next to Bethany, the foreign warrior who didn't seem to have any regard for the time and place of practicing a lute. A handful of the mages stared.

Korvos dipped his head to Bethany to speak.
"Figure we're riding out to Cyrodiil? Or will someone pop up a portal? Long trip if it's riding out, s'why I brought it."
He nudged her shoulder.
"Suicide mission or not, you're crafty. Plan's relatively solid... but it goes to n'chow, you're good at improvising. I don't really make plans, neither, I play by ear."

Footsteps echoed through the long dark hall. Three Thalmor agents stood guard, hooded and cloaked. A fourth agent stood in front of these mer with her hood off, showing off sharp features of an altmer woman. Instinctively, each one was reaching for a weapon. The footsteps were soft against the dusty floor of the ruin but hard to pinpoint from which direction.

"You think he's here?" One of the mer spoke from under his hood.

"Lets hope so. If its anything else, you know what to do." The altmer woman replied.

The footsteps neared the hall. The swords were lifted higher in anticipation. A muffled, gravelly voice spoke out.

"You can lower those. Unless you wish to kill me, in which case you should be ready."

The altmer woman relaxed and lowered her sword, gesturing the others to do the same. The other agents followed suit. A long shadow walked through one end of the hall. It slowly took the shape of a tall mer in a hood. The face was hidden by a mask with a macabre grin. On his back was the signature long bow and on his sides were twin katanas. The mer walked with fluid steps. Despite his size, his feet did not thud against the floor heavily. He came to a stop as he neared the group of Thalmor agents and put his hands behind his back, waiting expectantly.

"Our thanks...we didn't know if you would show up." She gave a brief smile before sheathing her weapon. "These are my associates and we assure you, we do not come here to kill you. Rather, we need your help."

Elros blinked in mild surprise. "The great and invincible Thalmor seeks my help? A common vigilante? Well well well, this is a sight to see." Elros spoke slowly but surely. The other Thalmor agents gritted their teeth in anger.

"Yes, it seems that no one else is willing to take this task. We lost six of our own. Now we have no choice but to turn to you. You have made a name for yourself, Shado. We know you have the capabilities to carry out this task for us. And we know you will not refuse." The altmer in the front spoke with a beguiling smile, a knowing smile.

"Oh? I won't refuse? Alright, humor me. What is it you wish me to do?" Elros asked in curiosity.

The altmer strode forward and handed Elros a rather large roll of scrolls bound by a yellow ribbon and embossed with a red seal. She then took a step back to rejoin her colleagues.

"A fortnight ago, a thief broke into one of our vaults and stole something very valuable. This is a simple recovery mission. We would like you to retrieve this object back from the thief before it falls into the wrong hands." The woman watched Shado closely. The mer had broken the seal and was starting to read through the parchments.

Elros's eyes widened. He read through each scroll quickly, then looked up at the Thalmor agents. "You can't be serious. The Heart of Anumaril was stolen? And you want me to retrieve something with a trail that is probably cold by now. And if you lost six mer on this mission alone, I doubt its a simple recovery mission. Whats the catch here?"

"The catch is that if that Heart reaches the Daggerfall Covenant territory, it will be near impossible to retrieve it. We would have to send an agent into deep cover and that is something we cannot afford to do right now." The altmer spoke uneasily, looking back to her fellow agents.

"And why will it difficult to spare a few bodies to retrieve this thing?"

"We cannot say...All agents are preoccupied with the war in Cyrodiil."

"All agents? Unless the Thalmor is participating in the incursion into the Imperial City, you shouldn't have a problem with sending one of your own."

One of the Thalmor coughed and sputtered. Elros caught onto that.

"You are preparing to enter the City...I see. I wish you luck. As for this, I accept." Elros held up the roll of parchment. "I assume this thief has already left Dominion territory?"

"We are glad you accept. Aye, the thief is passing through Cyrodiil judging by the last report. We need you to depart with all haste and report to Captain Errssa at the Eastern Elsweyr Gate. She will give you the recent reports and leads on the thief. We wish you luck as well. This thief is wily. Watch out for any tricks. Bring the Heart back into Dominion lands and we will make sure no one can steal it ever again." The altmer smiled again and one of the khajiit agents sighed in relief.

"Understood. Tell this Captain Errssa that I would prefer to have full reign over this task. I will return the Heart but I would prefer you don't get in my way." Elros spoke in finality and turned, leaving the hall.

---

Elros threw a couple tunics into the bag along with a few trousers. He grabbed a few apples and venison pies, packing them carefully and putting them in a separate bag. He then carefully took out a long black box. It was empty but there was indentations in it. One shaped like a bow and two deep indentations in the shape of swords. He took his bow and put it into the case. Grabbing his armor pieces, he began strapping them on one by one. On a table nearby was a letter ready for Donvyn and Haldir.

Letter

My dear rose and my rascal,

I am leaving for Cyrodiil. Do not worry, I will be back soon. Korvos is already headed for the Imperial City. I will make sure to return with him.
There's food in the pantry, make sure Haldir doesn't raid it. He also has to begin training with the sword I left him with. Find a teacher if you can? And Haldir, you best not be eating the pomegranates. I need them to make the special cookies.

Take care of your father and help wherever you can. I will be back soon.
Your daelekil and father,
Elros

Elros looked at the letter a few times before leaving a cookie and rose on top of it. He slung the bag on and put his travel cloak over his shoulder. He strapped the case onto his back as well but stopped when he heard a gentle tap on the window. Looking over he saw his companion, the snowy white owl. Elros sighed and strode over to the window, opening it slowly and reaching out a hand to gently pet the bird. The owl looked him over and nipped his finger hard. It ruffled its feathers and flapped its wings a few times. Elros chuckled. He climbed out the window and stood on the ledge. The owl hopped onto his shoulder and waited. As soon as Elros jumped, it took off and flew gracefully into the night, following the altmer from above as they journeyed to Cyrodiil.

Bethany could not help but smile inwardly as the conversation continued. For all it's worth, Korvos' unwavering faith in her abilities was oddly reassuring. And yet, she could not help but feel all the more responsible for bringing the Dunmer back home safely, no matter the cost... As the evening went on, the pair had found themselves walking the immense battlements of the keep, engaged in a lively conversation. The Breton mage spoke often of her homeland, while Korvos brought up his memories of the splendor he witnessed in Mournhold. Before either of them realized it the dark had fully settled in, leaving the beaming disks of Masser and Secunda to illuminate the towering bastions of the Garrison. Reluctantly, the mage had to break the conversation short as either of them needed to catch whatever hours of night's rest were still left till their departure. Bidding a graceful farewell, the adventurers went their separate ways only to reconvene at dawn. Walking down towards the assigned quarters, Hawke could not help but smile when her thoughts drifted back to the time spent wandering around the keep with unusually chatty Dunmer. Korvos was making a most remarkable progress since the time they met, and she could have sworn by Azura's grace that she witnessed a smile - a sight so unprecedented for the grim, reserved warrior she knew that she had trouble believing it was truly him... Letting out a small sigh, the Breton mage shook her head as she pushed the door open - the mission was about to commence the following morning, and it will do neither of them any good to dwell on anything else but the priority of making it trough in one piece...




///After the third watch, the sound of war-horn echoed throughout the walls of the citadel, signaling the beginning of new day. For some, it was merely a routine - a signal to return to their daily, and often dull duties across the Citadel. But one group stood out from the organized chaos of the troops stationed in the keep. Huddled together, a group of mages donning the traditional blue robes of their Guild shoot fearful looks as the steel-clad knights of the Lion Guard saddled up, readily awaiting for the order to head out... Slightly apart from the group, a pair of travelers readied their own steeds for the march ahead. The elegant staff slung back across the hooded woman's back indiscriminately pointed towards her being a mage, while the armor-clad Dunmer to her side wielded an vicious looking axe accompanied by a large shield. Their attire did not seem to bear any particular signs of distinction, apart from a small clasp on the woman's cloak with a silver lion engraved upon it...///




Gently patting Tam Varla's mane, Bethany glanced over to her fellow mages. - "Magnus... look at them! They are daunted, nay - terrified..." - she spoke quietly to her Dunmeri companion. - "Most of them barely even left the Guild Hall, much less experienced any sort of hazardous fieldwork... What in the Void were they thinking, sending them into the Divine's forsaken pit we are heading for? They are going to be slaughtered!" - the woman's voice trembled with barely concealed indignation. - "To ensure the success of this venture, we need seasoned battlemages not scholars... or at the very least, those with /some/ kind of experience in the outside world. Regulations be damned, I must speak with Captain Gustav before we depart, for this is nothing short of madness..."

As the evening shadows grew long, Korvos turned a gold signet ring around his finger. It was quite plain, as far as rings went, with no gems or markings other than a backwards seht. His finger had grown calloused from wearing it so constantly, and he rubbed at the rough mark as he removed the ring to examine it. The ring had, in turn, started to show its age in nicks and scuffs over the once-pristine surface, souvenirs of Korvos' travels.

He slid the ring back on his finger, where he noted that the band was a bit dented, yet still not uncomfortable to wear. Perhaps he could get it fixed later. Or resized a tad smaller.

Moonlight pooled through the slatted windows of the garrison, into the bunks where Korvos had been permitted to sleep. The Dunmer had elected to take the farthest bunk from the fireplace, away from the Lion Guard soldiers that tended to give him dirty, though sometimes curious looks. He lay in his bunk, watching a small gathering of soldiers playing cards into the wee hours. He closed his eyes, sleeping a bit before an odd presence stirred him.

Though his eyes remained closed, Detect Life still chugged along, providing a vague, spatial awareness of the locations of living bodies. For example, there was one right in front of him.

Korvos cracked open one crimson eye, barely moving so to not alert the observer. Korvos glimpsed a Breton half-dressed in armor, perhaps one of the squires. Korvos abruptly sat up, and the startled squire took a step back.

He was quite young, as far as humans seemed. He might've been a teenager or in his twenties - Korvos couldn't pinpoint the exact age - and his blocky features suggested that a past ancestor of his might've been a troll. He had pale skin that was smattered with freckles, complimenting a shock of ginger hair and startlingly blue eyes. The Breton was staring quite openly at the Dunmer, his mouth hanging open, despite the questioning look Korvos gave him. The elf noted that the squire was not armed, and though the young human might've matched him in terms of bulk, Korvos supposed that he could take the boy in a fight.

The Breton made no move to fight, though. He simply kept on staring, then shook his head and cracked a bright smile. "Ain't seen a Dark Elf before." His accent was drawling, colloquial, and nearly made Korvos' eyes cross from the effort it took to understand it. "Blokes, the Lions, they ain't too fond of you. Dark Elves sail in the night, steal wenches and kids from their mums. Ya know, slavers. You're with that battlemage beauty, though! Her bodyguard, aye? Ain't that the opposite of a slaver? You're working for her!"

The Breton chuckled at the bewildered Korvos. "Ain't meaning to stare. I know it's rude. But like I said, I ain't seen a Dark Elf before, I dunno if I should get the chance again." The unnaturally cheerful Breton seized Korvos' hand and pumped it up and down in an enthusiastic handshake. "Name's Thomas! Be seeing you, off to the Imperial City! Supply train ain't watching out for itself, nay?"

Korvos blinked as the fiery-haired human practically skipped off to go do... squire things? The Dunmer shook his head, still confused over the rather aggressive new friendship.



As the third watch's horn sounded, Korvos stood placidly by Bethany as they awaited departure, his hands clutching the reins of a borrowed quarter horse. At her mention, his gaze flickered over the mages. Though his grasp on facial expressions and emotion was dubious at best, Korvos looked over their general builds. Even Donny was more physically fit than most of them. They were lean and presumably well-bred, but their limbs seemed slender and wanting of muscle. Korvos thought of a mage's lifestyle, or what he'd seen from when Donny was 'in the zone' - long hours spent reading and writing, and not much time spent devoted to exercise. A sedentary lifestyle, Korvos thought, that left its participants panting and gasping for breath when such a lifestyle abruptly changed to an active one.

Korvos' gaze settled on a young mage, a human girl with mousey brown hair. Her face was pretty in a pointed sort of way, and she clutched a staff with delicate, manicured hands that were free from callouses or blemishes. Her frame was that of a waif, slender and very short, like a strong gust of wind might knock her over. Korvos frowned as he tried to imagine one such as her successfully escaping any sort of pursuing daedra. It was difficult to fabricate a plausible situation.

The Dunmer warrior tilted his head to the main entourage. "Gustav might be with them. Lion Guard and the rest." He spied a familiar freckled face among the armored knights. Thomas was clad in leather armor, a bow and quiver strapped to his back, and a spyglass hanging from his belt. The squire must've been a scout.

"Mages are already here and ready to go, though. They might not want to waste more time replacing them with proper battlemages." Korvos scanned the Lion Guard soldiers, looking for the captain. "Sending them home might be bad, too. In the end... surviving's often about how many bodies your enemy has to cleave through. More's usually better for you." His mouth twitched in a frown, his expression grim. "You're a better talker than me, though. He could listen."

Elros looked up at the statue near the pond. Captain Errssa stood not so far behind him, directing soldiers to begin their morning training exercises. Many of them had responded to an alarm that an intruder had passed over the gate to Elsweyr. Elros had given them quite a scare and his owl didn't help much. It had pooped on each and every one of the soldiers who apprehended Elros. Now it rested peacefully on the altmer's shoulder with its head under its wing.

With a gentle breeze passing through, Elros shifted his blank gaze out to the massive plains that extended to the horizons. Cyrodill's landscape always stirred something in Elros's heart. He had told Donvyn of his dream to someday have a house on the golden prairies. With the war going on it seemed to be an impossible dream. Atleast for the next thirty years or so. He turned back to glance at the altmer captain shouting at her lieutenants. After what seemed to be an hour of preparations for the day, she came to him finally.

"Our apologies...Shado is it? I would advise you not to cross the gate without submitting to proper procedure. Unlike my Thalmor brethren back home, we do not take chances here. We will shoot and we will ask questions later. Though I suppose I should be glad they have sent you here now. I've been told that eh, how did you put it? You don't want me getting in the way?" The captain glared at Elros with startlingly green eyes. "You have a lot of courage making such demands from us, I'll give you that. But I am not agreeing to this. That Heart is of utmost importance to us and I don't trust you one bit. So I'm coming with you." She looked at Elros's mask squarely and stood tall in her gleaming silver armor.

Elros stood quietly while he let the captain air her frustrations out. He remained silent for a few moments more before speaking.

"The only reason I don't want you getting in the way is because you'll only slow me down. If you can keep up with me, by all means you are welcome to join me in the hunt. But if not, I will leave you behind to fend for yourself. You are the ones who asked me to retrieve this artifact so do not question my methods. And you need not worry about me taking the Heart for myself. I have no intention of doing that. Once I get it, you will be the first to know." Elros looked back at the horizon. With the sun already risen, he turned back to her.

"Now instead of wasting time, tell me what you know so we can be on our way." Elros crossed his arms and inadvertently jolted the owl awake. It glared at Elros, pecking at his mask in annoyance. "Shh." Elros held a finger up to the bird.

The captain raised an eyebrow at the owl's antics. "The thief has already passed through here. Killed a few of my night shift guards. This thief isn't alone. He or she is travelling with a small group of mercenaries, all trained in stealth and such. We believe they are holed up somewhere north of here, between Castle Bloodmayne and Castle Black Boot. Their scouts report no movement in the immediate area. We think they are moving through the forests. So...what we can do at the moment is have the castles create a line through which they cannot pass. Worst comes to worse, we direct them towards the Imperial City and drive them to the river. Maybe we can corner them at that point. My gear is ready and so am I. Are you prepared to leave now?" The captain snapped her fingers and a bosmer scout came running to hand her a rucksack and her weapons. He saluted and fearfully glanced at the owl before scurrying away.

Elros smiled under his mask. "Sound strategy. I assume the line is already in place. Let us be on our way. We have no time to waste." Elros gently stroked the owl under its beak. It hooted in satisfaction and took off into the air. "My friend will tell us if the band of thieves are spotted." Elros turned and began running at a good pace. The captain immediately followed suit.

They passed through the gate and kept running till the Eastern Elsweyr Gate was no longer visible. Far in the distance before them,the pinnacle of the White Gold Tower gleamed with brilliance. And above it, the largest dolmen they had ever seen.

/// The discussion with the Captain Gustav did not seem to go very well, for the majority of the following day the Breton Magister remained sullen and dejected, shooting an occasional glare towards the stocky soldier every now and then. One must commend the efficiency of their leader, though - within an hour after the initial gathering, the party had departed from the gates of Bangkorai Citadel. As frustrated as she was at the situation, Bethany could not help but gaze at the surrounding landscape in wonder. One may call the dusty dunes and weathered crags of Alik'r a dull sight, but there was something oddly... comforting, about the endless sea of sand. A strange thought, yet it seemed to soften her demeanor greatly by the time the party came to a halt at the massive gates, leading into the no man's land of Craglorn...///




- "Halt! Only the members of the Daggerfall Covenant are allowed to pass trough these gates! State your business, or begone!" - the tower sentry yelled out as the company of armored knights and mages approached the massive doors.
- "Open your eyes, boy! Are you blind, or simply stupid to not recognize the sigil of the Lion Guard?" - Gustav shouted back, a flickering light of torch shining light on the smug expression evident on his face.
- "Captain Gustav! A thousand apologies, I did not recognize you in the dark. Open the gate! Let lieutenant Clovie know that we have guests!"

With the heavy creaking, ancient bronze-clad doors begin to open. Not bothering to say anything else, Captain Gustav simply steered his horse towards the gatehouse as the remainder of the company followed. The Breton mage could not help herself but to gaze upon the battlements in silent wonder - millennia had come and gone, but the ancient Yokedan craftsmanship endures. There was a sad irony that the creation had long outlived the very ones who shaped it... As the gates swung shut behind them, Bethany took a moment to take in her surrounding. Even though the scorching sun had long left the celestial highway, one may still see the jaggeder cliffs of the Skyreach at the distance. Craglorn... it was a long time since she visited the place. Even with the Celestial crisis well at hand. the land still bears the scars of Aetherian breach. Little seemed to change in this weathered wasteland... Alas, she knew all to well that this will not be the case for their intended destination.

Leading her steed to an empty spot at the make-shift stables, Bethany slid off the saddle. Her back ached violently after a day's worth of riding over a harsh terrain, but the journey ahead did not looked any easier. Taking hold of her bedroll, she glanced over to the encampment. Gustav had a great many flaws, but in-efficiency was not one of them. By the time she tended to her horse and joined the rest by the camp fire, the tents were well in place. She easily spotted a familiar, ash-skinned figure that seemed to sit apart from the rest.
- "As much as I hate to say it, Gustav does seem to know what he is doing. We did not run into any trouble all the way here. Though this is bound to change as soon as we set foot in the heartland..." - stiffening a yawn, she dropped her bedroll next to him, before sitting right on top of it. - "But what about you?" - she inquired in a hushed tone. - "Do any of these men cause you any trouble?" - Hawke glanced over her shoulder. While Gustav's men seem to largely ignore them, some of the soldiers at the gate were shooting cold, at times outright hostile looks towards her Dunmer companion. Many of those men were on their way to or from the battlegrounds of Cyrodiil, and had tasted the Ebonheart steel before...

The arid landscape felt familiar in some ways. True, Korvos had journeyed far and wide across the Alik'r with Donvyn and Elros months before, and the stark landscape was still fresh in his mind. It held a certain beauty to it, a minimalistic testament to the powers of the natural world. Craglorn, he decided, was similar, but instead of endless seas of sand, there were... well, lots of crags. Rocks and hills, dotted with strange Yokudan ruins, altogether a rather bumpy landscape. The sun blazed down, hot and hazy, and the dust their horses kicked up shimmered over the road. If Korvos closed his eyes and imagined the smell of brimstone, it almost felt like Morrowind.

Night had fallen with a chill, and Korvos had taken it upon himself to gather wood for his own fire. Joining the Bretons at the center of their camp seemed a poor idea, and besides, there seemed to be plenty of dried grass to use as kindling. A scraggly, dried tree served as his fuel, and as the gnarled wood caught aflame, the smoke smelled of sweetness and spice. The Dunmer sat on his bedroll with his legs crossed, his armor discarded for the night.

A lute sat in his lap. He plucked at the strings in quick succession, working out a tune that slowly grew more polished each time he played it. Much to the chagrin of the guard, Korvos had decided to practice the song for the duration of the journey, pausing only for an hour or so to give his nimble fingers a break.

He muted the strings and bowed his head to Bethany in greeting. A tin plate of bread and cured meat sat beside the fire, and Korvos passed it to Bethany as he spared a glance at the gathered Lion Guard. As he looked, several seemed to avert their gazes, having been caught staring.

"No one's spoken to me much yet." Korvos murmured back. "They stare. See that one on the right? Dark hair, black like tar. Tied in a ponytail, and no beard. Might be a couple years older than you, I think. He's the one that stares the most. Always looks the angriest." The guard in question was one of the sentries of the Bangkorai Gate, a Breton dressed in the standard uniform of the border's personnel. Though Korvos watched him, he didn't seemed to be deterred from his blatant staring. His eyes narrowed in response, the orange glow of the large campfire illuminating the hard contours of his face. The Dunmer was the first to look away.

Korvos plucked at a string on his lute, as if the light sound would dissolve the tension. "There's another, though. Over by the Lion Guard. Red hair, pale skin. Freckles. Name's Thomas, he said. Didn't seem all bad, he was a bit friendly. Rest of the Lion Guard leaves me alone. I haven't spoken to them, either."

He muted the strings again as he glanced at the Bangkorai guard. Their conversation seemed to have intensified, though Korvos and Bethany were too far from their tents to eavesdrop. The dark-haired Breton stood up, and slowly began to cross the distance between their campfires.

The two altmer ran a good distance before coming to a stop near a small brook. The captain stooped to fill her canteen while Elros remained on the lookout. Their quarry wasn't supposed to be far off. Elros's owl had returned with no news but a few mice for itself. Captain Errssa stood up after splashing her face with water. She watched Elros closely. Elros turned and caught her stare.

"What?" He asked.

"You are a strange mer, Shado. That is all. Come, we should leave." She gave a small smile and lugged her pack, ready to move out.

"About time." He gave her an odd glance before signaling to the owl. It gobbled up its lunch and took to the air in search of the thieves. The mer turned and started running again in the general direction of the two castles.



The hunters ran for the rest of the day until dusk began touching the sky and spreading its golden colors. They had entered the forest near Castle Bloodmayne and had picked up on a trail of footprints and scents. Shado examined the ground for any further clues while Errssa trudged on ahead. Finding nothing else of importance, he caught up with the captain who had already cooked some dinner for the both of them. He gave his thanks and quickly ate it. As nosy as she was, she kept staring at him until he grew annoyed with the behavior.

"Alright, what is it?" He put the skewer down and stared back at her. "Am I causing you unease? Think I'm going to kill you in your sleep?"

The captain's stare narrowed considerably. "Why do you distrust so much? You don't trust the Thalmor, or the military arm of the Dominion. Yet you think you can make a difference all by yourself?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

Shado sat there in silence for the longest time. He didn't expect her to ask these questions, pertinent as they may be from a Dominion authority such as herself. The darkness in the forest grew with each passing minute and his visage became more malevolent.

"I detest...bureaucracy. What you cannot accomplish, I do. I have no qualms about breaking the precious laws of the Dominion. If I can deal justice the way it is meant to be, I would do it again a hundred times over. That is why I don't trust the Thalmor or any authority as far as I can throw them. You lot seem to think that once the status quo is met, that is where the problems end. But you and I know both know the world doesn't work like that. There are times when you have to trade one evil to strike down another." He stared at her, his presence growing heavier. "I'd rather strike them both down."

The captain listened closely then hung her head in shame. She nodded a few times.

"I think I understand you a little more now. Our proud Aldmeri Dominion has its faults. And you try to right these faults one at a time. All by yourself..." She looked up at him.

Elros snorted. "Who said I was alone?" He stood up and gathered his cloak. After putting it on, he gestured to put the fire out. "We should be on the move. No time for debates."

The captain's brows arched in surprise but she kept quiet. She kicked the logs and the flame went out, plunging the two in darkness. Errssa raised her hand and summoned a mage light. After gathering her things, she nodded to Shado.

"True enough. Duty comes first. Lets move." The two mer moved through the dark woods, further in pursuit of their target.